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by Conlan Nielsen 3 months ago in surreal poetry
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By Conlan Nielsen

Photo by Jason Wong on Unsplash

Inquisition of my existence has left it upended. A complex sigularity of emotions and thoughts encompassed within the dredgen of oak and ash and thorn that is the scope of the infinite landscape within my mind.

A triumvirate of questions

Opportunity: Lost

Preservation: Ash

Salvation: None

This void sees light die. My bones snap, and my heart unwillingly gives. Transforming passion to "want" and "want" is suffering.

An agonizing trade for the fuel to become fit to serve the deserving, at the cost of apathy and indifference.

The void I walk, feel, experience, see

I ask myself: "Is this the darkness?"

It's rain with no storm, wind with no direction, an ocean with no waves.

This Darkness has taught me many lessons through its trials and tribulations of hardship its forced upon me.

Unclear whether I'm going to rise from it, or drown in it

Gazing into the void I observe that no place shall embrace me

No sense, no light, no self, no death. Just an indifferent puppet

Dangling on hope's strings

surreal poetry

About the author

Conlan Nielsen

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